


Love Would Be the Death of Me

by Zantedeschia



Category: Xi You Ji | Journey to the West - Wu Cheng'en
Genre: Angst, Dad Sanzang, Hanahaki Disease, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I don't even know why I even wrote this, M/M, OR IS IT, Pining, Sanzang is a pining mess, Unrequited Love, ft. Bailong trying his best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zantedeschia/pseuds/Zantedeschia
Summary: The monk chuckles bitterly. “I suppose I couldn’t hide that forever, huh?”
Relationships: Sūn Wùkōng | Monkey King/Táng Sānzàng | Tripitaka
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	1. Coughs

Tang Sanzang is a sensible man. He understands that every action, every decision, every choice has its consequence. He knows that if he strays too far from their camp, there's a chance he'll get kidnapped. He knows that if he gets too close to the fire, he'll get burned.

But, for some reason, even if every part of his mind screams 'no', even if logic and common sense is against it. He can't, for the life of him, stop thinking about his Eldest Disciple.

It's confusing. It's infuriating. It's _so wrong_. And yet he _can't_ stop. 

Every word, every smug remark, every soft sigh from the monkey sent his mind spiraling in a whirl of emotion. Every flick of his wrist, every slight curl of his lips, every lingering touch made the monk's bald head spin. He needs to stop, he _has_ to stop, desire is want and want brings misery. This fluttery thing in his chest whenever the monkey laughs, how it twists in pain when he sees him injured, how it leaps in joy when the monkey holds him. This _thing_ , this feeling, will be the death of him.

He's coughing again; he inched closer to the fire, tugging at the blankets that hug his small frame.

Wukong is like a fire. His warmth keeps you safe, makes you inch closer and closer to him even though you know you could get burned. For Wukong is fire and Sanzang is a mere little moth, and what does a little moth have against the bright flames? 

So, Sanzang flew closer, knowing he could get burned.

The monk coughs, and a crimson-streaked petal falls.


	2. Comfort

Xiao Bailong is an observant boy. He knows his companions like he knows his own mind. He knows Elder Brother’s fiery eyes, Second Brother’s rambunctious laugh, Friar Sha’s quiet hum. He knows Master’s fond smile whenever he gaze at his brothers. He knows Master suppressed coughs and shivers.

He knows something is troubling the monk. He sees it in his face, illuminated by the flickering flames, in the crease of his eyebrows, in the downward curl of his lips, in the hunch of his shoulders.

He strode towards him, nuzzling the top of his head. Master chuckles.

“Xiao Bailong.” he said in a hush tone, sweet and fond. “Why haven’t you slept yet?”

He doesn’t respond, at least not in words. He lets out a soft whiny, settling close to the master, using his lap as a pillow.

Master smiles, petting his mane and humming a tune.

He watches as the monk gaze—almost lovingly—at his brothers, all peacefully sleeping. He watches the monk’s eyes linger at Eldest Brother. He watches as the monk coughs. He watches as blood-stained petals innocently fall atop Master’s robes.

He raises his head in alarm.

The monk chuckles bitterly. “I suppose I couldn’t hide that forever, huh?” He choked back a sob.

Master laments, and Bailong listens.


	3. Death

If there is anything Sanzang is certain about death, it is that it was always near him, silently looming over him.

He's first encounter with it was when he was still in his mother's womb, it hovers over him as he gets swept by the river current, it looms around him throughout his childhood, and even now as they journey west it is still _there_ , like a predator stalking its prey.

He holds back a cough. Bailong raised his head that once rested on his lap, letting out a small whiny.

The monk smiles knowingly and pets his mane. "I'm fine..." he murmurs, his gaze turning back to the campfire. The horse only responded with a scoff-like sound.

He chuckles. He's sometimes in awe of how this little dragon can express so much without words.

Bailong nuzzles his hand, a gesture only the two of them understood the meaning after all the nights they spent resting next to the campfire. _Master... Can you sing?_

A fond smile graced his lips. He began to sing, a quiet and soft lullaby he'd known in his youth, his voice raspy from the _thing_ growing in his chest. The early winter wind blew softly, cicadas chirping a lost tune, the light of the full moon shone over their camp, granting the monk a clear view of his surroundings even as the flames ran low.

He watches his companions like he does so many times before, relishing the peace and tranquility the night offers. He watches Bajie sleeping in an odd position that the monk's surprised he can rest _decently_ , Wujing cocooned in blankets that he's worried that the youngest would suffocate himself, and Wukong...

The King was lounging on a branch of a nearby tree, eyes closed, his posture lax yet somehow regal, dark mane almost hiding him in the shadows of the night, moonlight highlighting his sharp features.

_Handsome Monkey King indeed..._ The monk thought, staring at the monkey, if he weren't trying to be low-key he would've spit out the flowers clogging his throat at that moment.

And when Wukong opened his amber eyes, meeting Sanzang's brown ones, and the monk almost coughed right there and then. He looked away, trying to ignore the fierce burning in his chest, how it twists and throbs and robs him of air

It's a bitter reminder that even now, in the calm and serene moments of the night, Death still lingers, and it's never been as close to him as before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a month when I last updated this— Yeah, not my proudest work but I tried... Comments are appreciated ^.^

**Author's Note:**

> asbdieyfbrvstf This is a new style I'm trying out but I'm freaking proud of this. I don't know how far this will go or where is it going in the first place, I just need more JTTW fics in my life. I hope you enjoyed this!! Comments are appreciated :3


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